We Are Family
by NightmarePrince
Summary: They've had their ups and downs just like all cousins do, and yet they've come so far somehow. The Weasleys may have never been the most ordinary of families but one thing is certain . . . they were as close as any family could be. A collection of Weasley family drabbles and one-shots for the Connect the Weasleys Challenge at HPFC.
1. SunStrike: May 2015

**We Are Family**

**-Written for the Connect the Weasleys Challenge on HPFC-**

**Pairing: Teddy/Victoire**

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**SunStrike**

_**-May 2015**_

Her silver-gold hair fell in a sleek wave to the small of her back, framing her bright blue eyes as she leaned back against the old oak. The rays of the sun lashed at the earth, sweltering waves of heat keeping most of the students ensconced within the castle with cooling charms cast on their clothes. The Slytherins had it the easiest, their common room below the Black Lake was said to be deliciously cool, even now in the midst of the heat-wave.

Herself, she preferred to sit outside where it was quiet, braving the harsh sun so that she could ponder her thoughts on her own. Her OWLs had just been written and there were just two weeks before the school year would end, sending her back to Shell Cottage to prepare for another year of school.

The only difference would be that _he _wouldn't be here next year because _he_ was finally done with _his_ schoolboy years. Her best friend was leaving her and Victoire just didn't know how she felt about that.

He had been there since she was born, a two year old toddler letting her tug at his turquoise hair. She remembers following him around as they got older, how it had always just been the two of them even when the others had been born. She remembers that it had been him – then four – who had held her when she cried that her parents wouldn't have time for her now that Dominique had been born.

She remembers when he was six and was forced by her Aunt Ginny to play a game of house with her and her sister. To this day, the image of him blushing at playing the role of the dad with her as the mum was still imprinted on her mind.

It was one of those things she couldn't forget because it was a memory that was centred around him. She remembers because he was her first teddy-bear.

"Hey," her head whipped around so quickly at the sound of _his_ voice that it cricks. Rubbing at it ruefully, she scowled at him and at herself, cross that he had startled her and that she had let it happen.

"Hey," she returned his smile as he sank down to sit beside her, slinging a hand over her shoulders. It was a simple motion, one he had done a hundred times before but for some reason she wished that he wouldn't touch her now.

"So, do I want to know why you're out in the sun on a day like this?" he asked through his usual wolfish grin.

"Just thinking," she replied. Even though she had sat in comfort for close to an hour, cool in the shade cast by the thick boughs, his presence beside her caused her to feel unbearably hot.

"What about?" he pressed.

A streak of bravery that she had never been aware that she possessed shone through her then, proving that despite being a Ravenclaw, her blood made her very much a lion.

"About what Hogwarts is going to be like without my best friend," she replied, instantly regretting her honesty when he stiffened against her.

"Tell me about this _best friend_," he asked after a while, causing her to look at him in confusion.

"Teddy, what ar–"

"Just tell me," he interrupted, not looking at her but preferring to gaze over the still waters of the lake. In the distance, they Giant Squid waved lazily at them before sinking back into the liquid coolness of the lake.

"He's this guy who I've known since I was a baby and we've been inseparable ever since. He's been the guy who's always been there for me whenever I needed a friend, he has the biggest heart I've ever seen, he can make me laugh when I'm down and make me smile when I cry. He's my best friend and I–" she humoured him, abruptly falling silent near the end of her soliloquy when she realised what she had been about to tell him.

"I'm really jealous off this guy," smirked Teddy, but his hair told her a different story. The tips had flushed bright red – as had his cheeks – letting her know that he was embarrassed. To be honest, Victoire felt just as embarrassed about her confession.

"You shouldn't be . . . even though you're not as fun as he is," she feigned a smile and tried to dispel the tension, the heavy feeling in her chest disappearing as he quirked an eyebrow at her challenge.

"Really?" he asked her, his lips curling into a smile as his eyes flashed brightly in the sunlight – a deep sea-green today, her favourite colour – before he got to his feet, tugging her up as well.

"Teddy, what are you doing?" she couldn't help the laughter in her voice as she caught a glimpse of the mischievous expression on his face – a look that usually predicted another gem to be added to her treasure trove of memories.

"Fancy a swim to cool off?" he grinned, yanking off his T-shirt, trainers and socks before racing for the lake.

"You are insane," she called after him, nevertheless pulling off her shoes and blouse to dash after him in her sports bra and jeans.

"I know," he yelled before diving into the lake, spraying her with refreshingly cool water as she dove in after him.

"Still think your best friend is more fun than I am?" he asked, surfacing just in front of her, rivulets of water running down his lithe chest, his blue hair plastered to his forehead.

"You are my best friend, you tosser," she giggled, splashing him as hard as she could, the burning rays of the sun across her back not bothering her in the slightest.

"Hey!" he yelped, his hands striking out to catch her wrists and pin them to her sides. He looked down at her, his face flushing as he realised the proximity of her body to his.

"So what was that thing you were mentioning about your best friend earlier?" he asked, taking advantage of their situation.

A stroke of madness – she was sure the Gryffindors would call it bravery – overwhelmed her Ravenclaw logic for the briefest of moments but it was still too long and the words escaped her lips:

"He's my best friend and I've fallen in love with him."

She cursed herself as she saw the shock etched across his face and made to turn away, feeling the sting of angry tears at the corners of her eyes. Then she gasped as she felt his lips on hers.

Her wrists were freed and her fingers tangled themselves in his spunky turquoise locks, and she felt his arms wrapping themselves around her waist. Victoire closed her eyes as she felt his tongue begging entry, opening her mouth just enough to give it to him before nipping teasingly on his lower lip.

The sun beats down hotter and hotter, but it just didn't compare to the scorching intensity of their first kiss.

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Prompt: First Kiss


	2. Serpentine: September 2017

**We Are Family**

**-Victoire and Albus-**

**Serpentine**

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**-September 2017**

He sighed as he huddled in the alcove, holding his breath at the trio of seventh year Gryffindors hurried past, their voices loud and harsh as they yelled his name, branding him with the moniker: _Traitor._

To an extent, the scorn of the older students hurt him. He hadn't asked the Sorting Hat to put him in Slytherin, he had simply asked the crotchety old hat to put him in the house that he was best suited for. It had responded by placing him in the House of Green and Silver, staining his black tie green and silver from that day on.

He knew that his parents had assured him in their letters that his house didn't matter and that they were proud of him no matter what. Sure, his brother was always there for him and hadn't treated him any differently since he had become a Slytherin and maybe he had managed to make a friend in his new house, but that did not change the fact that both Gryffindor and Slytherin had scorned him.

The snakes didn't want a Potter in their ranks whilst the lions viewed him as a traitor. He had expected their animosity to have waned after the first few weeks of term but if anything, it had just become worse. On a positive note, Albus had become remarkably good at hiding from the bullies and running away fast enough to avoid their hexes and jinxes.

His best – only – friend fared none the better. Scorpius was the son of one of the most notorious Death Eaters to have ever lived, and despite his father having made amends a thousand times over, people tended to remember the bad and gloss over the good.

He wished Teddy was still here but his godbrother had been done with Hogwarts two years before he had ever started. Usually, whenever any of the Potter children had a problem they could have gone to him but how could they if he wasn't here to begin with? He had thought of asking James for help but that wasn't really an option either – he had no doubts that his brother would always be there for him but at the same time, he knew that he could never really escape the bullies if he hid behind his big brother all his life.

Their thudding footsteps had long since faded into nothing when he finally crawled out of the alcove, dusting the cobwebs from his trousers before turning to head back to his common room. He looked over his shoulder, just to be safe, and then took off at a brusque pace towards the dungeons.

"THERE HE IS!" yelled a voice and Albus sped up, running now instead of walking, his heart beating faster than ever as a jinx narrowly missed his head.

"Glisseo," he yelped as the stairs shifted beneath his feet, slipping into the form of a smooth, stone slide. He landed in a heap at the foot of the stairs, biting his lip nervously as the seventh years surrounded him, wicked grins on their faces.

"Who wants to see if the traitor is wearing clean underpants," jeered the leader, a burly youth that Albus recognised as his brother's quidditch captain. He flushed bright red as the meaning sank in, reaching for his wand to try and do something, anything, just so he could escape the humiliation.

"Evanes–" the boy began, aiming his wand at Albus' pants and he felt tears sting his eyes. Why were they so mean?

"STUPEFY," her voice cut his attacker off, her voice melodious as a jet of red light struck the burly quidditch player in the chest and sent him hurtling to the ground. Albus turned, eyes widening at the sight of his cousin, her blonde hair seeming to crackle with fury.

"Thirty points from Gryffindor," she snapped, "EACH!" They boys exchanged quick glances before turning to flee, half-dragging and half-carrying their prone comrade as they disappeared around the corner. They knew well enough not to mess with the brightest witch of their year.

"You okay, Albus," Victoire forced a smile to her face, masking her anger as she offered him a hand. He took it eagerly, returning her smile as she helped him to his feet.

"I'm fine," he grimaced, feeling his freshly bruised back smart as he stretched, the fall down the stair-slide had been more painful that he had originally thought.

"How long has this been going on?" she asked, looking at him through her bright blue eyes – the kind of eyes that seemed able to see right through you and pick out your every secret.

"Since I was Sorted," he admitted quietly, looking down at his sneakers to avoid her pitying look.

"Albus," she fixed the stairs with a flick of her wand and took a seat on the lowest one, gesturing for him to sit beside her. Once he had, she continued, "Why?"

"Because I'm a Slytherin and I hate that that's the reason why."

"What does your House have to do with anything?" she asked in surprise.

"I find myself wishing that I had been a Gryffindor like everyone else, just so they don't have an excuse to beat me up anymore."

"But you're a snake," she admonished, "And you're going to be one of the best damn snakes this school has seen. Next time those bullies give you any trouble, I want you to get me, okay?"

"Thanks, Vic," he mumbled under his breath before standing up to leave, stiffening when she grabbed him by his wrist.

"You remember that spell I used on them just now?" she asked and when he nodded, she smirked, "Next time, don't be afraid to give it a go. Aim for the chest and _Stupefy. _Show them what a Slytherin Potter can do."

Albus beamed at her as he left, grinning as he twirled his wand between his fingers and practised his new spell.

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**Prompt: Wishing**

**Reviews are Appreciated**


	3. Wish Upon a Star: December 2022

**We Are Family**

**-Molly II and Roxanne-**

**Wish Upon a Star**

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_**-December 2022**_

The air was stuffy, thick air cloying in her nostrils as she struggled to breath, crushed between her Aunt Hermione and her mother. The room, once so richly flavoured with the aroma of Nana Molly's Christmas dinner, was now laced with the scents of alcohol, sweat and Aunt Ginny's famous chocolate chip cookies. It's definitely a strange combination but then again, her father had brought out the liquor quite early this Christmas and they eggnog had been bypassed in favour of something stronger.

She sat there, barely able to breathe without choking, snug in her Christmas Jumper whilst Louis pouts in the corner, complaining loudly about why he wasn't being allowed any firewhiskey. So far, the only two who were paying him any attention were Lily and Hugo, both of whom were also a little too young to be drinking.

Not that it stopped them at Hogwarts, Roxanne thought with a snort, the Gryffindors were known for their rowdy parties and Lily had proved quite capable of holding her own in drinking games since she was fourteen years old. Hugo on the other hand was a lightweight, which was funny because his father was capable of out-drinking them all.

A smirk graced her lips as she watched her brother sneakily take his leave, feigning a yawn with a bottle of absinthe stowed beneath his coat. To everyone's surprise but her own, James and Albus follow him almost immediately, both claiming to be worn out after their annual Quidditch match. Knowing them, they were just going to get well and truly sloshed before passing out for the night – despite all three being of age, Angelina and Ginevra would throw a fit if they saw the things their sons drank, or in Al's case, smoked.

Her uncles and father were far too drunk to notice the missing bottle from their table, the women were too enraptured with Victoire's wedding plans to so much as glance their way. Ordinarily, Roxanne would have joined in with the planning but for some reason, she couldn't help but feel that there was something missing.

A peal of laughter was rent from Aunt Hermione, her cheeks somewhat pink from the wine and Roxanne turned to gaze upon the object of her mirth. She stifled a giggle at the sight, Uncle Ron staring crossly at a mop and commanding it to his hand. Obviously, Madam Hooch's flying lessons stayed with a person long, long after they had finished Hogwarts.

It was then that she realised what she was missing, a fundamental constant that was always present at every Weasley gathering. Since she had been a toddler she, like most of her cousins, had delighted in teasing Molly II.

Molly just didn't fit in with the rest of them to be honest. If anything, she was the female version of her father, Roxanne's Uncle Percy. Her cousin had never been the most sociable of people, she was a stickler for the rules and more prone to spending a Saturday in the library than lazing beside the Black Lake with the rest of them.

Still, Roxanne couldn't help but feel concerned when she noticed that Molly was not with them in the room. She was surely not with the boys upstairs – Molly Audrey Weasley would drink alcohol when hell froze over and not a day before – and Roxy was certain she hadn't yet retired for the night. The Burrow was bigger than it had been in the days of her father's youth but with so many grandchildren, the girls were all forced to share the largest guest bedroom. From past experience, Roxanne knew that Molly was a light sleeper and usually went to bed last so that she wouldn't be disturbed.

She chuckled at that thought as she had never before considered herself to be close to Molly, but if she could remember these little details then there was no doubt that she knew her cousin better than she thought. They say you can't choose your family, Roxanne usually laughed at this statement because, despite not getting along with all of them, why would she ever want to choose anyone else?

A flash of red hair caught her gaze, her eyes narrowing as she caught a vague glimpse of her missing cousin sitting in the porch, in that one nook where you're invisible from within the house. The only reason Roxanne had seen her in the first place had been the wind, a stray breeze pulling a few ruby strands free from her immaculate bun.

Muttering a few excuses that nobody heard, she got to her feet and slipped out to the porch, frowning at the despondent look on her cousin's face.

"It's cold out," said Roxy, her words misting through the night air, "You should come inside?"

"I'm cold inside, remember?" replied Molly dryly, "Why not be cold outside as well?"

"We were just teasing, Molly," sighed Roxanne, coming to take a seat beside her cousin and rubbing her hands together to try and keep warm.

"You're always just teasing," she scoffed and turned away, tears glittering in her eyes, "You're always rubbing it in that I'm not one of you."

Roxanne bit her lip, uncertain of what to say next because it was true to an extent. She just never knew how damaging it would be in the long run – of course Molly was one of them, she was a Weasley and Weasleys stuck together, fair or foul or any weather.

"Do you remember that one time when that Hufflepuff prefect caught James and Alison Longbottom in the Room of Requirement?" Roxy asked softly, placing a hand on Molly's shoulder and hoping that the older girl would not shake it off. Molly did not move save to give a stiff nod.

"Who was it that kept him from getting suspended? Who covered for him? Who helped get Albus and that Malfoy girl out of trouble when Neville caught them in the Prefect's Bathroom? Who jinxed Lena Chase's broom during the Quidditch finals to make sure Ravenclaw won? Which brilliant girl has saved us all at least one time or another?"

Molly's cheeks burned red as her cousin spoke, her eyes gleaming wetly as the memories of their Weasley escapades and adventures filled her mind.

"You did, Molly, and the only reason we tease you as much as we do is because it's our way of showing you that we love you," Roxanne gasped out the last words as the older girl slammed into her, capturing her in a tight hug. A few words were mumbled into her ear and she grinned.

"Louis spent a year bashing on Teddy because he started shagging Victoire and yet, Teddy was Louis' hero since that kid was born. James and Albus fight like cats and dogs yet have you ever seen two brothers as close as they are? We're family, Molly, we'll hurt each other but we will never let someone else hurt a single one of us."

"For a girl who failed her Charms OWL, you're actually quite smart," Molly gave her cousin a watery smile.

A glimmer of light caught their eyes, a gleam of shifting starlight cutting the darkness of the sky. Roxanne's smile deepened as she slung an arm around her cousin's shoulders.

"A shooting star, Molly," she beamed, "Go on, make a wish."

Molly smiled back at her and mirrored her gesture, sliding an arm over her shoulders before opening her mouth to speak:

"I don't need to."

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_**A/N: Thoughts?**_

_**Prompt: Shooting Star**_


	4. Caught in the Act: August 2019

**We Are Family**

**-Lucy and Fred II-**

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**Caught in the Act**

**-**_**August 2019**_

Lucy grinned to herself, mischief bubbling in her brilliant blue eyes as knelt beside the cauldron in her bedroom, making sure to follow the recipe as precisely as she could. Today was the day she would prove to her cousins that she was a true prankster and that just because her father and sister were sticklers for the rules, did not mean that she was one as well.

Sure, she had helped them pull off a few of their escapades over the years but she knew that she could do so much more if they just gave her the chance. Yet she was always made to be the lookout or the distraction whilst Fred and James had all the fun.

Well not any more, today she would be proving herself at their expense. She knew how particular the two of them were about their hair, claiming that it was the height of "sexy" and was the cause of numerous girls in their year always asking them out on dates. Not that anyone believed them . . . they were after all, from the same pool of genes that had spawned the Weasley Twins and the Marauders.

The potion fizzed as she added the last ingredient, smirking at the vibrant green sparks that crackled up from the shimmering liquid. According to her textbook, the potion had been made perfectly and thus was she sure that her moment of pride was guaranteed.

Just a phial of this potion in the boys shampoo and they would spend their first three months back at school with bubblegum pink hair. They could try spelling it off though but Lucy knew that nobody short of Aunt Hermione would be able to undo her potion, and since Aunt Hermione was at a conference in Berlin for the remainder of the holidays . . . well let's just say that they were doomed.

She could scarce contain her excitement for the rest of the day, her fingers trembling with nervousness as she lazed around the Burrow, helping her Grandpa Arthur work on his new Muggle gadget, losing several games of Wizards Chess to her sister and finally, helping Nana Molly fix dinner.

Time trickled by all too slowly for her liking as she paced her bedroom, glad that most of her cousins had opted not to stay at the Burrow for the week and would be joining them in the fortnight before school began. It meant that she had a room all to herself and this made it much easier to implement her plan.

When finally the moon had nearly reached its apex and the entire house had gone quiet, Lucy grabbed a vial of her freshly brewed potion and set off on her mission. Her grandfather's snores drifted down the stairs, mingled with the softer snores of her cousin James from the next room.

Tiptoeing, she creaked open the bathroom door and froze, instantly realising that something was wrong when a cloud of steam hit her in the face. Squinting, she cursed under her breath at her ill luck.

It was late, almost midnight, so why in Merlin's name was Fred taking a bath at this late hour? Why were his legs in the air? Why were his eyes closed? Why was his hand jerking like tha–

"Urgh yeah," he groaned, "Just like that, Olivia."

Lucy couldn't help it when the realisation of just what she had walked in on hit her, she screamed and fled the bathroom, ignoring the horrified yelp of alarm that passed Fred's lips as he opened his eyes and glared at the spot that she had just vacated.

Safely back in her room, she glared at herself in the mirror, twirling her wand between her fingers and wondering if she could perhaps _obliviate_ herself into forgetting that this had ever happened. She shuddered in disgust, shaking slightly as she set down her wand, knowing that a memory charm may do more harm than it would help her.

She crept into her bed, lying awake and staring at the ceiling, her body twisted into the most uncomfortable sleeping position she knew to prevent herself from dozing off and having nightmares. She knew she would have nightmares. She had just been emotionally and mentally scarred.

The hours ticked by and slowly, ever so slowly, as her eyes grew heavy and gritty, a nefarious idea began forming in her mind.

The next morning she didn't need to wake up because she hadn't slept in the first place. Quickly, she got out of bed and went to the bathroom – nipping into the en-suite that had been built into her parents' room at the Burrow because she didn't think she would ever be able to use the bathroom on her floor again.

Her hair still wet and she strode down to the kitchen, she grinned when she saw Fred sitting at the table and digging into a hearty breakfast of sausages and eggs.

"Freddie," she smirked as she sat beside him, "I have a great idea for the start of term prank this year."

"James and I already have it covered," Fred scoffed through a mouthful of scrambled eggs, spraying a few flecks onto the table, "If we need someone to watch the door, we'll let you know."

"Let me rephrase that," she grinned, lowering her voice so that only he could hear, "We're going to go with the prank I decided on . . . or I tell Olivia Wood exactly how much she affects your _wood._"

She didn't know what was more hilarious, the way her cousin's caramel skin paled so that he looked like a Malfoy, his spluttered, "It was you!" or the way he took off from the table, screaming for James.

"JAMES! LUCY HAD A BRILLIANT IDEA FOR THE START OF TERM PRANK!"

Yes . . . definitely the way he ran screaming for James.

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**A/N: If you're a girl and this made you laugh, review. If you're a guy and you can feel Fred's pain, review.**


	5. Choices: February 2029

**We Are Family**

-**Louis and Dominique-**

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_**Choices**_

-**February 2029**

Dominique smiled faintly at her brother as he made his way through the bustling crowd, his bright blue gaze aimed on her. She toyed with the ice-cream sundae set before her, twirling the spoon through the layers of vanilla and bubblegum, nibbling at the cherry between her teeth. The sundae had been sitting there for a while now, and it was starting to melt, not that she really cared.

Ice-cream was just something to help her pass the time whilst she waited for her brother's lunch break.

Louis finally escaped the milling throng and entered the parlour, waving off the waitress before coming to sit across from her, a serious look on his boyish face. Even at twenty years old, her baby brother still boasted his teenage charm and innocent appeal, something that she had quite envied when she had been younger. The Veela beauty was strong in both her siblings but seemed to have passed her by. She was pretty – she just didn't have the otherworldly beauty and poise that came so naturally to Louis and Victoire. Thought pretty in her own right, she knew that she wasn't as beautiful as they were.

"You called?" he asked tersely, slipping his satchel of his shoulder and tucking it beneath the table.

"I'm leaving," she replied without preamble, looking away to avoid the shocked look that crossed his face.

Louis was quiet for a long moment, tapping his fingers across the table as he scrutinized her. Her face flushed red during his prolonged silence, the crimson blush throwing her freckles into stark relief.

"Why?" he asked finally, raising two fingers into the air to signal for a passing waitress. Before Dominique could respond, the woman her brother had waved off earlier was standing beside the table with a sour look on her face.

"Couldn't you have ordered when you walked in?" the lady snapped. Louis turned away from his sister and glared at her.

"Couldn't you have worn less make-up?" he smirked, "Or do you intend to plaster the walls with your face later today?"

The woman wrinkled her nose and turned on her heel, a venomous look on her face as she walked away. Perhaps to add insult to injury, Louis called after her:

"I'll have a caramel mocha-latte."

"Have fun drinking that after she spits in your food," she told him as he turned his attention back to her, her eyes crinkling with amusement at the scene that had just transpired. This was the reason she had come to Louis rather than any of her other relatives – he could never fail to put a smile on her face.

"You know it was true," he smiled, "She's wearing an entire box of crayons on her face."

"You're terrible."

"You love me anyway, Domino," he winked at her before becoming serious again, "Now what's the problem?"

Her happy mood dimmed considerably as he brought up the topic at hand, but she took a deep breath and told him what needed to be said.

"I'm getting married to a muggle–" she began, but was suddenly cut off by Louis' laughter.

"We're half-bloods from the biggest family of blood traitors in England. Do you really think we won't accept you marrying a muggle?" he chuckled, then frowned as he noticed her eyes brimming with tears.

"He doesn't accept my magic," she whispered, "I'm not leaving the family. I'm leaving the magical world."

"Magic is a part of you, Dominique," he said after a long pause, "if Richard can't accept all of you, then what does that say about your relationship?"

"We've been together for five years," she replied, "I love him and I know he loves me. If magic is the price to be with him, then it's a price I will pay."

She didn't even have to question how Louis knew his name; how he knew about their relationship despite the lengths she had gone too to hide it from her family. Her brother always knew, it was something she had grown up learning to trust in.

"And your children? When you have them, that is," Louis snapped, "They'll be magical. Will you keep them from Hogwarts and deny them their heritage?"

"Of course not," it was her turn to snap at him, "Rich will learn to accept magic when that time comes, I know he will. He just isn't comfortable with it right now."

"You can't expect me to just sit here and let you throw your life away," Louis said, his voice growing thick with emotion, "You can't expect me to support this."

"I supported you through everything, Louis," Dominique said through gritted teeth, "Every decision you made in life, I stood by you. Even when you came out to us, I stood at your side and now I'm now I'm asking you, I'm pleading with you, to accept my choice and stand by me."

Louis swallowed. It was true. Dominique had stood by his side through thick and thin. She had been one of the few family members who hadn't initially distanced themselves from him when he had first announced he was gay. She had held his hand through all of these years – so what would it cost him to hold hers through this.

"Why tell me?"

Dominique laughed dryly. "Mum and dad will try to stop me, Victoire will try to sit me down and 'talk' about why I'm making a mistake. Nana Molly will go ballistic. You're the one I trust to support me without judging me."

"Domino . . ." Louis reached across the table to take her trembling hand. "I don't support this marriage but I do support you. I'll stand by you through it all, on one condition."

"And that is?" a few tears trickled past her lashes, dripping into her melted sundae.

"Write to me every now and then," he forced a smile to his face, "Don't be a stranger."

"I can do that. You'll have to use a muggle postal service though," she returned his forced smile with one of her own.

"I'd like to see the postman deliver letters to my flat in Diagon," he grinned as she giggled, the absurdity of the concept sinking in.

"Can I ask for one more favour?" she asked, her voice timid and small.

Louis nodded at her, and her voice was nervous as she asked:

"Could you walk me down the aisle?"

"I did say I would stand by you through everything, didn't I?"

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_**A/N: Thoughts?**_

_**Prompt: Beautiful**_


	6. Nerves: July 2029

**We Are Family**

**-James and Albus-**

**Nerves**

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_**-July 2029**_

Nervousness permeated the room, thick in the air as he paced in his dark suit, his emerald eyes wide. For once, his shaggy black locks had been tamed, falling in stylish waves around his face and for all intents and purposes, he knew that his appearance was impeccable.

On the inside though, his heart hammered in his chest and with every passing second he fought to keep his trembling fingers still. The greater part of him knew that everything would be fine, that he was working himself up for nothing but another part of him, a small fragment of his being, screamed that everything was about to go wrong.

He knew that they were young, still children in the eyes of the world, mere infants in comparison to the wizards whose lives were measured in decades rather than years. It was ironic really, his father and mother had been fighting a war since they were eleven and yet they both viewed him as too young to meet his bride at the altar. Then again, his father had always maintained that fighting Voldemort had been child's play compared to raising a family.

The fact of the matter was that he was twenty-three and his career was flourishing, his work in potions research already having earned him a full contract with St. Mungo's. Though still young, he was the Head of their Medical Research Department and been granted a significant level of funding by the Ministry for his research into curing werewolf bites.

The door creaked open and he turned to see who had come in, breathing a sigh of relief when he spotted the familiar head of dishevelled black hair, so like his own.

"I thought you ditched that habit," said James, frowning at the sight of his brother looking so pale-faced and stressed.

"I'm twenty three years old," he protested, "I can smoke if I want to."

"Well then, as long as you're going to kill yourself slowly," dramatised his brother, "you won't mind bumping me one?"

"And risk Alison clawing our eyes out? Please, your wife scares me," Albus replied, his teeth chattering slightly as he spoke.

"Getting cold feet, Al?" smirked James, shrugging off the rejection. It wasn't as though he really wanted to smoke anyway. Alison would literally rip the smoke out of his lungs with her bare nails.

"Aren't all grooms supposed to be nervous on the day of their wedding?" shot back Albus, sinking into an armchair, his fingers tapping a steady rhythm across the wooden armrest.

"Teddy wasn't," pointed out James, conjuring a second chair with a flick of his wand and coming to sit beside his brother.

"Are you kidding?" he chuckled, "Victoire was going spare because he refused to leave his room after that cow Muriel insisted the whole wedding had been planned just so she could leave him at the altar."

"He still wasn't nervous," declared James, rolling his eyes, "He was batshit terrified."

Albus laughed, feeling considerably lighter for a moment before catching sight of the large tent set up in the garden, his amusement dying as he pulled his eyes away from the window. Turning to his brother, he asked the question that he couldn't bring himself to dwell on alone.

"Am I making a mistake, Jamie?"

James frowned, thoughtful for a long while before clapping him on the shoulder, looking straight into his eyes with an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face. Hazel bored into the emerald depths and Albus shivered despite himself. His brother was a Marauder by nature, mischievous and brave in equal measures but there were times like today when Albus was reminded of how intuitive James could be.

"Are you?" he finally asked, and Albus shook his head.

"No . . . I don't know," he admitted, sighing as the weight was lifted off his chest by his confession.

"Albus, do you love her?"

"Of course I do," snapped Albus, irritated now because what had his feelings for Cassiopeia Malfoy got to do with anything, "I've loved her since I was fourteen years old."

"I think you just gave yourself your answer," James grinned, leaning back in his chair and flicking his wand, summoning two tumblers to his hand. Leaning off the side of his chair, he reached beneath his brother's bed and pulled out a bottle of firewhiskey, half empty. Suddenly he laughed, chucking the bottle onto the bed and Albus groaned at his ill luck. His brother knew him too well so he wasn't surprised that James knew where he kept his alcohol in his room at Malfoy Manor, but he was mortified that Cassiopeia's lacy green bra had been bound around the bottle in question.

"What ever happened to the groom not being allowed to see the bride on the night before the wedding?" asked James, grinning as Albus hurriedly snatched up the offending article of clothing and stuffed it into his cupboard.

"Shut up," he scowled, face flushed bright red and James gingerly picked up the bottle and filled both glasses to the brim. He took the offered glass in his hand and didn't think twice about chugging it in one go, the burn of the firewhiskey settling his nerves and scorching his throat.

"You should be the last one talking, Jamie," Albus added upon catching sight of his brother's raised eyebrow, "Didn't Neville catch you in the Room of Requirement with Alison in your seventh year?"

"I still think that's why I failed my Herbology NEWT," he groaned, shuddering at the memory of being caught with his then girlfriend – now wife – by her father, "Then again, I was never caught by my best friend whilst getting spanked by his baby sister."

"I should never have told Fred that," scowled Albus, "You're never going to let me live it down."

"Don't blame Fred, he gets gabby when he's drunk," pointed out James, "You shouldn't have been playing veritaserum spiked truth or dare with him in the first place."

"You shouldn't have shagged Seth Finnigan," he shot back, throwing another of his brother's indiscretions back at him to draw the subject away from his own.

"I didn't," laughed James, "Josh did, he's gay you know and Seth was drunk as a skunk. But he didn't want Seth to know because he fancied him and things would have gotten awkward. So at four in the morning I got naked, swapped places with Josh and spooned my best mate."

Albus roared with laughter, tears beading in his eyes as his entire body heaved with his mirth. A knocking on his door interrupted the brothers' laughter, and the door opened so their father could stick his head in.

"Albus, the ceremony is starting soon and your mother's begun to cry about being old, Fleur's crying about missing Dominique's wedding, Hermione's crying because your mother is crying and I swear they're about to start pulling out baby photos," he chuckled, "You'd better come down before Astoria joins them." Before either boy could respond, the senior Potter had left.

Albus got to his feet, eyes closed as his nervousness started to well up inside him all over again.

"Open your eyes, baby brother," James clapped a hand on his shoulder, "You're marrying the woman you love and for what it's worth, I'm proud of you."

"Thanks James."

(*)(*)(*)

_**A/N: The brotherly bond between James and Albus has always been one of the platonic relationships that I've loved. **_

_**Reviews, as always, are appreciated,**_

_**Prompt: Open Your Eyes**_


	7. We Stick Together: May 2025

**We Are Family**

**-Hugo and Louis-**

(*)(*)(*)

_**We Stick Together**_

_**-May 2025**_

He found himself struggling to breath, the force of the blow driving the air from his lungs and sending him coughing to the ground. His elbow cracked against the stone floor to break his fall and he cried out in pain as the first kick sent shockwaves of pain coursing through his slender frame.

"Fucking queer," scoffed Devon Mclaggen, large boots slamming into Louis' belly as the younger boy curled up on the ground and tried to make himself as small as possible. Tears of pain filled his eyes and he clenched them shut, determined not to appear weaker than he already was in the face of this bully.

The next kick caught him in the face and he failed to stifle his shriek of pain as, with a sharp snap, his nose broke. He felt the blood, hot and wet, pouring across his trembling lips and filling his mouth with its coppery flavour.

His left eye throbbed painfully from when Devon had first trapped him in this deserted corridor, and he knew that come the morning, the smooth skin would be discoloured by a hideous black eye that no amount of snitched make-up could hide.

"Stop it," he yelped as he was yanked to his feet and shoved against the wall. Devon didn't pay him any mind as he grabbed his silky blond hair, tugging on it painfully, and smashing his head against the harsh stone.

"Think you can take my spot on the Quidditch team, shirtlifter," scowled Devon, backhanding him across the face hard enough to send him reeling. He stumbled, unable to support his weight as black spots filled his vision and he went sprawling across the floor.

Devon knelt beside him, hands tightening across the scruff of his neck and pulling his head back till his throat ached and stinging tears filled his eyes.

"How many of them did you spread your legs for to get on the team?" the brute sneered, sour breath spilling across Louis' face and causing him to gag, "How many of them did you suck off?"

Louis glared at him through narrowed eyes, before spitting full in his assailants face. He may be smaller than the older boy, and physically weaker, but he's possessed with the Weasley temper that had only been accentuated with his Veela fire. He earned his spot on the team – he knew that. He was the best seeker that Ravenclaw had and Devon was just bitter to have lost to a poof.

"I'm a virgin," smirked Louis, blood flecking his usually sparkling white teeth, not ashamed in the least to be telling the truth, "I got in with pure talent."

"A liar as well as a poof," declared Devon, before striking Louis' head against the ground so hard that for a moment, he was sure that he had blacked out.

The worst part was that he could expect nobody to come to his aid. His friends were in Hogsmeade, having left him in the castle when he had insisted that he needed to get in some extra hours of studying for an upcoming potions exam. Usually, he could have counted on his family but they had been distant with him since he had first come out of the closet and apart from Dominique, who was seven years his senior and graduated from Hogwarts, his cousins had begun appearing uncomfortable whenever he was around.

That was what hurt him more than Devon's beating.

He felt his head being pulled back again and he braced himself for the next blow, knowing that he wass probably going to be slammed into the ground until he has lost consciousness. It was not going to change who he was though – they could beat, ignore and alienate him all they wanted too.

He had learned endurance. The world could never break him.

Eyes clenched shut as he waited for his head to be bashed against the floor for the third time; he was surprised when the hand that gripped him suddenly loosened. Blinking to clear his blurry eyes, he frowned at the tall boy – actually a man by age now – storming down the corridor, a stream of hexes flying from his wand.

A part of him knew that long, somewhat crooked nose and auburn hair, just as it knew that gangly frame and freckled face. His head ached though, and the pulsing hurt in his skull made it too difficult for him to focus on his rescuer.

"Oi, what do you think you're doing to my cousin?" the man stormed, the jet of orange light that flared from his wand catching Devon in his chest and sending him spiralling through the air. Louis grinned as he watched as the bully erupt in hives, writhing across the floor as boils sprouted upon his arms.

The man knelt beside him, black robes edged with Gryffindor crimson filling his misty gaze, and then sucked in a deep breath.

"He really did a number on you, mate," observed Hugo, and Louis winced as he saw the stream of pale blue sparks begin to float from his seventh year cousin's wand. At first he thought that his cousin had come to torment him as well, the blue light looking oddly reminiscent of a stinging hex. Then he gasped at the soothing sensation that washed across his skin, his fingers twitching in relief as the pain was slowly but surely alleviated.

"I thought," he coughed, his throat burning with the ragged expulsion of air, "you didn't care anymore." It was true, he had thought that. To be ignored and treated with disdain for so long by his family had hardened him – and whilst he was grateful for Hugo's help, he was also curious as to why the aid had been given.

Hugo shifted uncomfortably before helping him to his feet and slinging a hand around his heaving shoulders to support him.

"You dropped a bomb, mate, and it took me a bit to adapt to the explosion," Hugo explained morosely, "But you're my cousin and I don't care if you're into birds or blokes or dogs or sheep for that matter, you're family and family sticks together."

"Took you long enough," snorted Louis, instantly regretting it when his broken nose spouted a fresh wave of blood. He was surprised when he heard Hugo chuckle, flinching at the uncomfortable heat of the _Episkey _healing charm, before his cousin spoke again:

"You may be gay; mate, but you're our gay."

(*)(*)(*)

Prompt: Endurance

-Also written for the Fill the Calendar Challenge: September 2nd (Write an action)-

_**A/N: Thoughts?**_


	8. Pretty Little Sister: June 2023

**We Are Family**

**-Teddy and Lily-**

(*)(*)(*)

**Pretty Little Sister**

_**-July 2023**_

"Teddy, thank Merlin you got here so fast," Ginny sighed as he stepped through the floo and dusted the soot of his jeans. He frowned at her, taking in her wan appearance before responding.

"You said it was urgent, mum." It was a term of endearment he had used on her since he was four years old and his grandmother had passed, leaving him to be raised by his godparents. It wasn't that he was ashamed to his birth mother, it was that Ginny had been the only mother figure he could remember and whilst he would always love Tonks, he loved the middle aged woman sitting before him just as much if not more.

"It is," she sighed again, deeper than before, "It's Lily."

A thousand thoughts flash through his head, is his baby sister ill? Has something happened to her? Has she been kidnapped by a group of neo-Death Eaters seeking revenge on his godfather?

His overactive imagination was often more of a curse than a blessing, he mused, as Ginny chuckled at his expression and experience. He quickly screwed up his nose in concentration, urging his hair and skin to return to its usual colouring and not reflect his unfounded worries.

"It isn't anything dreadful, Teddy," Ginny attempted a smile and failed, resulting in her sporting a weird sort of grimace that looked out of place upon her matronly face, "She just hasn't been herself since coming home for the holidays and won't talk to any of us about what's wrong."

Teddy breathed a sigh of relief, instantly realising why he had been called away from his job. Not that his boss minded. He understood now why Harry had seemed so eager to let him off early today upon hearing about Ginny's letter. A part of him wished that his godfather would be as lenient when his clumsiness – one of the things he inherited from his mother, along with her metamorphmagus genes – botched a field mission that required stealth and silence.

"And she's always come to me when she needed help," finished Teddy, rolling his eyes as his godmother's knowing look.

"James, Albus and Lily have all always come to you when they needed help," corrected Ginny, before rising and beginning to prepare dinner.

"She's in her room," she added, "and you will be staying for dinner. I don't care if you're engaged to my niece and living with her – I hardly get to see you these days."

"Yes mum," laughed Teddy, loping out of the room before adding as an afterthought:

"But you're going to have to floo my fiancée and tell her why I missed dinner because veela tempers are scary."

His godmother's laughter ringing in his ears, he took the stairs too at a time before knocking on his little sister's door, grinning at the doodled unicorn above the handle that he had drawn for her when she was still a toddler.

"Go away," the shrill tone caused him to wince.

"It's Teddy," he said softly, smirking because he can almost hear her brain whirring as it debates the pros and cons of letting him in. He has no illusions that he would be able to enter if she forbade him for whilst he was an auror, Lily had been _making improvements_ to the bat-bogey hex since she was eleven.

"Come in," he hears finally and he enters the room, his mouth falling agape as he takes in the scene of untidiness. She usually was an exceptionally neat and well-ordered person – Ravenclaw and all that posh intellectual stuff that made his head spin – but now her room looked like, well it looked like James or his rooms had in their youths.

"I hear you're acting all mopey and depressed," he stated as he came to sit beside her on her bed, gingerly using his wand to nudge aside a t-shirt that's covered in food stains.

"I am not," she protests, deflating under the sight of his quirked eyebrow.

"What's wrong, Lily-petal?" he asked, hoping the childhood nickname may help speed up the conversation so that he can help her clean up her room. Teddy really could go his whole life without seeing his sister's knickers scattered across the floor but he doesn't want to be hexed, so he doesn't point it out. Merlin! Is that a spider-web print on one . . . He averted his gaze from the floor instantly, looking determinedly at her headboard.

"You're going to laugh at me," Lily said softly, turning away and swaying her feet to and fro, her bare toes skimming the carpet.

"I promise I will not laugh," he said, holding out a pinky-finger to show that he was serious and hoping to bring a smile to her face.

"I'm fifteen and nobody wants to date me for any reason other than me being Harry Potter's daughter," she scowled, "if that was the case, I would prefer they go after me for my looks but lets face it, I'm not that pretty either."

Teddy is flabbergasted at the confession.

"Hey there, you are pretty," it was all he could respond to. He should have expected something along these lines sooner or later considering he had already had to have had the virginity talk with James and Albus. He sighed. Sometimes being a big brother was exhausting.

"I have way too many freckles and my eyes aren't anything special and look at me, Teddy," bemoaned Lily, "I'm flatter than a surfboard in the breasts department."

"Errr," he really did not know how to respond to that. Shifting uncomfortably, he allowed his feelings to guide his morphing, his hair quickly turning a bright yellow, a colour he associated with confusion.

"I'm just going to die alone, aren't I?" sighed Lily dramatically, flopping down and burying her head in her pillows.

Composing himself, Teddy got to his feet and crossed his arms, his voice ringing through the room as he began speaking in a tone so forceful that it surprised even him.

"First of all, even if you end up dying alone, it's better to have lost a lover than to have loved a loser. Secondly, you are not unattractive. This room is, and I don't want to know why you have a bra hanging from the ceiling fan, but you on the other hand are beautiful. You're my baby sister and of course guys don't want to date you for you – they know that you're too good for them. And as for your boobs, I would rather never hear you talk about them again, okay?"

"Though for the record, you're still young and they are not as you put it, flatter than a surfboard," he finished, rather lamely, as she stared at him slack-jawed and in awe.

"You know what, Teddy?" Lily said after a while, "you're absolutely right. I don't need a man – I am amazing all by myself."

"That's my girl," he tousled her hair as he drew his wand, swishing it through the air to begin the cleaning.

Being a big brother was hard, he reckoned as Lily caught him in one of tightest hugs he had ever received, though it was moments like this that made all the difficult work worth it.

Of course it was only later that year when Lily began spending time with Scorpius Malfoy, did Teddy's find out just how hard having a teenage baby-sister was.

(*)(*)(*)

_**A/N: Thoughts?**_

_**Prompt: Spider Web**_

_**-Also written for the Fill the Calendar Challenge: June 29th (Prompt: Yellow)-**_


	9. Thorns: February 2024

**We Are Family**

**-Rose and Roxanne-**

(*)(*)(*)

**Thorns**

_**-February 2024**_

The night air was cool against her skin as she whipped across the quidditch pitch, her knuckles white as she gripped her broomstick. Since she was a child, this had been her exodus; her way of coping with the knives that life was prone to throwing her way. Tonight though, she found herself incapable of escaping the ice that had slivered into her soul.

Roxanne knew that being out of her dormitory at this time of the night was not allowed and that she was risking detention or worse, losing Gryffindor a handful of valuable points, but for once she could not be bothered. She needed to fly, to try and ease her heartache.

Flying was her one true love, she reasoned, and it would never let her down.

She shivered, her thin T-shirt doing little to keep her warm as she circled the pitch, forcing her broom to go faster than it had ever gone in its life. The adrenaline burned through her veins, soothing her just a little as the tears dried in her eyes.

She would not cry.

They were not worth her anguish.

"Roxy!" a voice, one that she really did not want to hear, filtered towards her and she froze in midair. A glare that could curdle milk crossed her face as she sought out the speaker, her lower lip trembling with indignation as she caught sight of her cousin's burnt-red hair.

"Roxy, please let me explain," Rose called up to her, her voice breaking as she spoke. For a split second, Roxanne allowed herself to entertain the notion that her cousin was feeling genuinely guilty. Then she squashed the absurd notion. You just didn't hurt family that way and then expect sympathy for your crimes.

Roxanne flew to the ground and dismounted, striding across the Quidditch pitch. Maybe she didn't need to accept whatever half-hearted apologies her cousin had to offer but at the very least she could let off some steam. Rose deserved her ire.

"How could you?" Roxanne snapped when she was within a few feet of her cousin, feeling sadistically elated when she saw the older girl falter.

"I didn't mean too," Rose stammered, "Neither of us did. It was a mistake."

"I don't want to hear it, Rose," she all but screamed, "I don't want to hear about how guilty you feel for kissing my boyfriend." In that moment she didn't care that Rose was a seventh year and one of the best duellists in the school, she was sure that she could rip her to shreds with her bare hands.

"Roxy, I di–"

"It's Roxanne to you," she scowled, cutting her cousin off in midsentence. She yearned to clout the girl with her broom, to claw at her face with her nails and to just make her hurt as she did.

"Roxanne," sighed Rose, looking much older than her seventeen years as tears glimmered in the corners of her eyes, "You have to understand. I didn't mean to kiss Lorcan. We were all drunk – Scorpius and Albus managed to smuggle in a case of Firewhiskey and I thought he was Lysander. I swear, Roxanne, I would never hurt you that way on purpose. You have to understand."

"Do I?" retorted Roxanne, acid dripping from her voice as she clenched her fist, her nails digging into the palm of her hand. She was sure that there would be angry red marks forming there when she looked down at them next.

"I could have forgiven you, Rose, but you two did more than kiss, didn't you?"

By the shattered look on the older Weasley's face, Roxanne was sure that this was something she wasn't supposed to have known. Perhaps if they had come clean to her at the very beginning, if they had confessed that they had slept together whilst drunk then she could have forgiven and forget their transgression.

They had lied to her though, and this made all the difference in the world.

"I'm sorry," whispered Rose.

The sharp crack of skin against flesh took them both by surprise, none more so than Roxy who stared at her open hand as if it had betrayed her. Across from her, Rose clutched at her reddened cheek, shocked disbelief evident in her blue eyes.

"I guess I deserved that," she murmured.

Roxanne didn't answer her, opting to turn on her heel and stomp back to the castle. The slap had felt good but it hadn't hurt Rose – not like Rose had hurt her. Within the depths of her mind a plan began to take shape, one that, had she been in the right frame of mind, she would have shied away from.

She may be a prankster but she had never been cruel, not till today that was.

A week later, the tension between the cousins was still palpable in the air, and the entire school seemed to know it. Which was why the Great Hall fell silent when she finally rose from her seat and waltzed towards her bitch of a cousin, the malice in her eyes concealed beneath indifference.

"I'll be in my dormitory if you want to talk," she said simply, stalking off towards Gryffindor Tower.

She knew her cousin well enough to know that Rose wouldn't follow immediately. She would first run to Albus and Scorpius for advice, then stew in indecision for a few hours before making her way to the dormitories.

It was so easy for her to put her plan into motion – he was just as angry as she was, come to think of it. She had been betrayed by a cousin, he had been stabbed in the back by his twin.

Rose should have learned long ago that Roxanne's thorns were all the sharper, each razor sharp thin laden with venom and a need for revenge.

Which was why she felt no pity when her cousin walked into her dormitory and let out a bloodcurdling scream . . .

Instead, she rose from her bed, clad in just a sheet and ran a finger across Lysander's chest, before smirking at Rose and whispering:

"I'm sorry, I was drunk."

(*)(*)(*)

_**A/N: Thoughts?**_

_**Prompt: Falter**_

_**Also Written for the Fill the Calendar Challenge: July 11 (Prompt: FireWhiskey)**_


	10. Trouble is a Friend: August 2011

**We Are Family**

**-Teddy and James-**

(*)(*)(*)

**Trouble is a Friend**

_**-August 2011**_

He frowned as he stared at the blank foot and a half of parchment, biting the tip of his quill and trying to concentrate on his homework. As usual, he was having trouble focusing on his holiday homework. Then again, he considered himself lucky to have not already covered his parchment in inkblots, knocked over his inkpot, or somehow managed to fall out of his chair.

As strange as those blessings were, Teddy was thankful for them, especially since his metamorphmagus abilities had'nt been the only thing he had inherited from his mother. He had also gotten her penchant for tripping over thin air.

Yes, thought thirteen-year-old Teddy Lupin with a wry smile, not causing a mess did indeed count as satisfactory progress when it came to sitting still and doing homework. Therefore, despite not having written a single word save for his name, he concluded that he had done quite enough for one day.

As always, such meritorious achievements deserved a significant award – and the only fitting prize he could think of was the leftover casserole from last night. His adoptive mother's cooking was could always be considered a treat – it was tantalising, delicious and quite literally any other synonym that one could think off to describe gourmet food.

Teddy only realised that something was very wrong after he had begun loping his way down the stairs. There was something fundamental missing from his home – something that he kicked himself for not comprehending sooner.

The house was quiet . . . much too quiet considering there was supposed to be a seven-year-old on the premises.

He cursed himself under his breath, using a slew of cusses that he was sure would have Harry in hysterics and lead to Ginny grounding him for a week, before pushing aside the thoughts of food and going in search of his godbrother.

Perhaps it had been a mistake telling his godparents that he could manage babysitting and his homework perfectly well that morning. James was not Albus, quiet and well-behaved, and nor was he little Lily, sweet and in the midst of her terrible toddler phase. No . . . James was pure evil, he reckoned, considering that the kid could single-handedly raise more havoc in an hour than was safe for their universe and its continuity.

Teddy loved his godbrother, there was no doubt about it, he just frankly found having three siblings exhausting and was thus thankful that Albus and Lily were visiting the Burrow. James though . . . oh Teddy just had to have been stuck with the Lord of Pranks whilst his godparents were at work.

Too soon, the reason for the eerie silence was explained. Teddy stood frozen in the playroom doorway, jaw hanging open as he took in the unbridled chaos of the room. The walls were stained a dozen colours, splotches of paint drying upon every available surface as the wind whistled through a nearby hole in the wall. A shred of plastic, transparent and crinkled, waved at her over the hole with a few loose strands of tape and Teddy realised he was looking at a makeshift window.

How had he not heard a hole being knocked into the brick wall?

More importantly, how had James – who was incidentally sitting in the middle of the room and colouring serenely – managed to break through in the first place. Accidental magic was powerful and could account for a lot but it was just that, accidental. Teddy seriously doubted that his godbrother had 'accidently' blown a minor hole in the wall.

He bit back a yelp as he stepped into the room, the carpet squelching wetly under his bare toes and he realised with a looming sense of horror that the room had been flooded.

Once again, it was impossible to discern how exactly the boy with the red dinosaur t-shirt and blue crayon had been able to flood the entire playroom when as far as Teddy knew, there was no plumbing anywhere remotely near.

"James," he gasped, eyes widening at the sight of the gaping pit in the corner of the room that he was pretty sure, had once been the location of the craft cabinet. Now, the glitter and googly eyes had been added to the fresh pain on the walls, giving the room the look of a space that had been designed by a drunken three-year-old.

Somehow, Teddy was sure that Lily would have had better taste had she been the one to pull a James.

The boy looked up at the sound of his name, grinning wildly as he sighted his big brother. A large part of Teddy wished that James wouldn't give him those huge smiles whenever he walked into the room . . . it made being in charge and playing the role of disciplinarian that much harder. He knew how much the younger boy idolised him; he just yearned for a time when he wouldn't be affected by those puppy-dog eyes that could let James get away with murder.

Judging by the state of the playroom, Teddy wouldn't be surprised to find a body buried somewhere in the debris.

"What have you done?"

"Mummy was talking about wishing she had the time to fix up the playroom because of _Witch Weekly_," the boy explained with all the innocence of a child, "so I had time and I decided to do it for her."

"I don't think this was what she had in mind," stammered Teddy, bending over to inspect a few scorch marks across the carpet. How James had managed to both soak the carpet and burn it, he would never know. To be perfectly honest with himself, he wasn't sure he wanted to.

When it came to the Potter children and their mishaps, it was always best not to know too much so you couldn't be called to testify against them.

"How did you even manage to get all of this done?" Teddy asked when James pouted, sulkily turning back to his colouring. A few chips of dust and wood flaked down from the ceiling, and the metamorphmagus frowned worriedly at the source of the disturbance.

He wouldn't put it past his godbrother to bring the entire ceiling caving down around them by accident. James was too much of a Gryffindor . . . brash and bold and sometimes just a little bit bonkers.

"With this," muttered James, digging up a long, splintered stick from underneath the growing pile of discarded crayons. Teddy's eyes widened in horror at the sight, eleven inches of mahogany and unicorn hair . . . ruined.

His wand.

His brother had destroyed the room using his wand and he hadn't even noticed.

What

The

HELL!

"JAMES!" Teddy yelled, "what did Dad tell you about using our wands?" The boy quailed underneath his big brother's glare, lower lip trembling as he handed over the wand – tufts of unicorn hair sticking to his fingers – his glasses threatening to fall off his nose as he received the worst scolding Teddy had ever dealt out.

Maybe he had inherited a few teacher genes from his father in addition to his werewolf genes.

"I'm sowwi, Teddy," sniffled James, tears welling in the corners of his eyes, his voice thick with emotion, "I was owly tryna help."

Teddy caught himself at the sight of the tears and walked over to the table, dropping to his knees besides James and soaking his jeans in the process. He wondered how James could manage to sit here in these conditions and find them perfectly normal, when the squishy carpets were enough to make him squirm.

"I know, Jamie," he sighed, "but you did do a number on this room. You really shouldn't be taking our wands. You could have really hurt yourself, baby brother."

"I'm not a baby," protested James, obviously absorbing only that part of the conversation.

"You're behaving like one," pointed out Teddy, causing the younger boy to fall silent instantly. Then quickly, James threw his arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder and nearly bowling him over with the force of the impact.

"Please don't tell mum and dad," James pleaded, "please, please, please. I don't want to get in trouble again this week."

Teddy paused, patting the child on his back whilst he debated what he needed to do. On one hand, James did deserve whatever Ginny would mete out as his punishment. Then again, he was supposed to have been watching the kid whilst their parents – biological in one case, adoptive in another – had gone off the work. Who really was the one at fault in this situation?

The sound of the floo roaring to life caused them both to freeze, the sound of their mother's voice filtering up the stairs sending daggers of panic up their spines. Teddy stared at his useless wand, wondering if it would work well enough to cast a _reparo _charm before Ginny got up the stairs.

"Boys? Are you i– What in Merlin's name happened?" Ginny clutched at her chest in the doorway, her face rapidly reddening as she emulated Nana Molly.

"My wand backfired," lied Teddy, poking James to make sure he didn't squeal, "it was me."

(*)(*)(*)

_**A/N: Thoughts?**_

_**Prompt: Trouble**_

_**-Also Written for the Fill the Calendar Challenge (December 27: Write exactly 1536 words)-**_


	11. Wedding Bell Blues: May 2025

**We Are Family**

**-Fred and Rose-**

(*)(*)(*)

**Wedding Bell Blues**

-_**May 2025**_

"Nervous?" she asked softly, coming up to stand beside her cousin as he fixes his tie in the mirror, sweat beading across his brow. For all she knew, it could just be the heat that's causing him to manifest the physical symptoms of anxiety, but of course, his impending nuptials may also have something to do with it.

"Is it that obvious?" Fred chuckled, half-heartedly and in a tone that lacked his usual energy. She frowned at him, he had been mad about Olivia Wood since their first year, pursuing the girl in the same way that James Potter had pursued Lily Evans . . . so why did her cousin look as though he had just swallowed a bludger?

"Some," she feigned a smile, drawing a handkerchief from her purse and wiping it across his brow, her brow furrowing as it came away stained a light tan.

"Are you using make-up?" she rolled her eyes at the guilty look in his. Ordinarily she would have laughed – today, she just swallowed her giggled and settled down in a nearby chair, staring at the large tent that had been erected in the backyard of the Burrow. Nana Molly had insisted that her grandchildren carry on the tradition of conducting their matrimonial vows at her family home – for her part, Rose would dearly love to see the look on her grandmother's face when one of her generation decided to host their wedding elsewhere.

"Just a little," Fred stuttered, "Roxanne insisted . . . and I want people's eyes to pop, OK?"

Rose should have laughed at that statement, but she didn't, even though it was so unusual to see Fred behave in such an amusing manner. To be sure, he was always funny – one could expect no less from the son of a Weasley Twin – but it was rarely at his own expense.

The mention of his sister, Roxanne, however, had been sufficient cause for her to purse her lips and glare out the window. Time had passed since the debacle with the Scamander twins, and though they said that time healed all rifts, they had been wrong.

The chasm between Roxy and Rose had only become wider with time, the situation not being helped in any way that Lysander – who had been hers – had since that day begun a romantic relationship with Roxy.

It was a constant thorn in her side, that the boy she had professed to love had abandoned her for her cousin after one, arguably a major, mistake on her part.

Nor did it help when Olivia had insisted that Rose be her maid-of-honour, and Roxy just stand as a bridesmaid. She didn't see why Roxy had been so offended by this, Rose and Olivia had been best friends and in the same house and year in Hogwarts, whilst Roxanne was such the sister of the groom.

Nevertheless, fault had been found, and Rose had been battling her cousin's icy glares the entire morning. Eventually, she had fled under the pretext of checking up on Fred, which had led her into the position she was in now.

"I don't blame you, Rose," sighed Fred, coming to sit beside her on the well worn couch, the pair of them watching their family rushing about with last minute preparations.

"Whatever do you mean?" she replied in a clipped tone, her glare powerful enough to curdle milk.

"You were all pissed drunk that night," he said, "James and I should have never helped Albus and Malfoy smuggle all that alcohol in from Hogsmeade but we never expected something like that to happen. But you were drunk – it wasn't your fault that you . . ." he trailed off, discomfort evident in his voice.

"That I shagged the wrong twin," Rose supplied sourly, clenching her fists so that her nails dug into her palms.

"Yes, that," continued Fred, still in that tone of discomfort and Rose understood it, no boy would want to hear about their female cousin's sex lives after all.

"What Roxy did was vindictive though, I won't deny it. But her actions are understandable as well. You hurt her in the worst way, and she lashed out and hurt you in the same way. Honestly, you two should just get over yourselves already – do either of you know how horrible it was for all of us to choose sides between the two of you when both of you were at fault?"

"I . . ."

But Fred spoke over her, his voice gaining strength as he went on, seemingly lifting a weight of a chest that even he hadn't been aware he had been holding.

"Look, I'll be the first to admit that my sister is a handful. And honestly, Hugo would say the same about you. But it's been two years and last I checked, neither of you are happy. You two are just being petty right now and it's time to bury the hatchet. And not in each other, either."

"I've tried, Fred," Rose stammered, at a loss for what to say. It wasn't fair – why did she have to be the one to make amends? True, it had been her fault . . . but it had also been Lorcan's. She had been the one who got the worst end of the stick. Her relationship had been the one that had ended and she, to this day, hadn't been able to begin another whilst her ex-boyfriend was all lovey-dovey with the girl who had stolen him from her.

It wasn't fair.

"Don't judge somebody just because they sin differently than you do," Fred concluded, as if reading her mind, before getting to his feet and tugging at his tie one final time.

"When did you get so smart?" grumbled Rose, getting to her feet and following her soon-to-be married cousin to the door.

"It's a prerequisite of being married to Olivia Wood," Fred explained, before he was whisked away by James and Albus, both of whom seemed to have been waiting outside the door, holding a bottle of firewhiskey in one hand and a pack of cigarettes in the other.

Eyes wide, she turned to Louis, who was lazily strolling after them.

"Don't look at me," he youngest cousin shrugged, "They're under the impression that he's overcome with nerves and in need of stress relief."

"I rest my case."

Rose shook her head as she went downstairs, ignoring the raucous yelling of her aunts and mother as they scurried around the house that had long since become too small to hold them all. Smiling nervously, she went up to the girl standing beside the front door, speaking with Molly and Lucy.

She clapped a hand onto her cousin's shoulder and cleared her throat, aware of the awkward silence that suddenly appeared between the four of them. Then she plucked up whatever Gryffindor courage she had – even though she had been a Ravenclaw – and said:

"Roxanne, can we talk?"

(*)(*)(*)

_**A/N: Thoughts?**_

_**Prompt: 'I rest my case'**_

_**Also written for the Fill the Calendar Challenge at HPFC: Prompt – Write about a Wedding (March 30) -**_

_**This Chapter is dedicated to the Amazing QueenRayne who helped me realise that writing family fluff is just as rewarding as writing Dark Fiction**_


	12. Candles: May 2020

**We Are Family**

_**-Victoire and James-**_

_**Candles**_

(*)(*)(*)

_**-May 2020**_

A lone duck quacked, floating across the pond as she sat upon its shores, tossing bits of bread into the water to feed the bird. She had been banished from the Burrow upon her arrival, forced to stay in the garden by her overzealous Nana Molly and her mother, both of whom insisted she not see the preparations for her birthday dinner that evening.

Frankly, she didn't agree with their views on the subject. She was twenty years old today, a woman grown, a healer at St. Mungo's and she was damn well old enough to look at her own birthday cake on the morning of her own birthday.

Not that they listened to her. Nana Molly had tutted a little in the way she always did before ushering her out the door and then slamming it in her face. She didn't see why there was such a need for secrecy – her birthday fell during the Hogwarts school year which meant her cousins and brother were still at Hogwarts. Of her sister, there had been no word for weeks, but then again it wasn't easy for Dominique to send letters home to them from her job in Romania, where she worked alongside their Uncle Charlie with his dragons.

Recently, Victoire had heard that her sister was filing for a transfer to work closer to home and she was shrewd enough to guess that this had something to do with the muggle boy who lived in the village near Shell Cottage. Not that it was any of her business – Domino had made it very clear to her that she was not to know about her sister's love life.

Turning her attention away from her wayward sister, she continued staring at the duck, dusting her hands against her jeans when she realised that she had already tossed the entire loaf at the bird, piece by piece, without noticing.

"When they told you to get lost, I don't think this is what they meant," said a mischievous voice from behind her and she turned, a faint smile spreading across her cheeks as her cousin sank to the ground beside her, his skin still slightly tinged with green from his recent bout of dragon-pox.

"Feeling alright, Jamie?" she asked, remembering the long nights she had spent tending to him in the hospital, during that brief period of time when his condition had worsened. Dragon-pox was usually harmless in children but there were still strains of the virus that were fatal in not handled properly and she had been tireless in her efforts to make sure that her cousin did not become another victim of the dread disease.

"Never better," he grinned at her, long limbs stretched out across the grass as he lay back with his hands folded behind his head, a makeshift pillow.

"Just wondering about all the homework I'm going to have to do when I get back to Hogwarts," he added with a sigh, his grin slipping back into place a second later, "and all the pranks I'll be able to pull on the first-years."

"The Weasley twin is strong in this Potter," she smirked, fighting the urge to laugh as his face lit up.

"Teddy took you to watch Star Wars," he beamed, "Didn't he?"

Just like that, her mood plummeted, the mention of his name enough to cause a stony look to fall across her face. She turned away from her cousin, glaring out across the rippling lake and noting a second duck swimming beside the first.

It wasn't that she and Teddy were having problems; it was just that she had seen twenty birthdays and he had never attended a single one of them. A part of her understood, her birthday was also the anniversary of the day he had become an orphan but the selfish part of her wished he would spend the day with her, at least once.

Was that truly too much to ask?

"I shouldn't have said anything," mumbled James, awkwardly running his fingers through his dishevelled mop of hair.

"It isn't your fault, James," she sighed, "I just wish he would, you know, be here for one of my birthdays." As the words left her mouth, she realised how petty she was being but she couldn't help wanting him at her side during the important moments of her life.

"You know," replied James thoughtfully, sitting up and looking over at her, "When I was a kid and dad used to play with me and Albus, Teddy never used to join us at first. He'd make an excuse and go off to his room, and you know my dad, he isn't really good at reading people. But one day, I followed him and there he is, sitting on his bed looking through that album Aunt Hermione had made for him with all the pictures she could collect with his parents in them."

"Thing is, Vic, Teddy's never had what we had. He's never had a birthday with his mum and dad there. He's never gotten the chance to sit under a Christmas tree and hand out the presents while his mum bakes cookies and his dad drinks all the egg-nog. They're in the afterlife. He hasn't had any of that but he's there for you whenever you really need him, at least, I know he's always there for me when I need my big brother. Is it that much to let him have this one day to himself?"

"Thanks, James," Victoire replied, looking at him as though he'd grown a new head out the back of his neck. She had never pictured James to be so . . . well so deep and tactful. He'd always been the family joker, rivalled only by Fred, but there was no denying that he had a lot of heart.

"Where're you going?" he asked in confusion as she turned towards the house, taking off at a brusque jog.

"Godric's Hollow," she yelled back, her breath carrying over the wind and she heard her cousin's laughter, already fading as she neared the house.

"Don't forget the candles," he called, and she smiled as she snuck in through the kitchen door, peering this way and that in search of the mysterious birthday cake. Finally she caught sight of it, her eyes widening at the delicious looking confection before grabbing the cake-box and dissaparating with a crack, the cries of her mother standing frozen in the doorway lost to the suffocating blackness.

She arrived in a graveyard, her smile falling off her face as her eyes found the turquoise-haired man kneeling beside two matching headstones. Walking quietly, she arrived beside him and joined him, dropping to her knees and linking her fingers with his.

He looked at her in surprise, not seeming to comprehend her being there until she had set the cake-box before them and opened it, sticking a few candles haphazardly into the lemon-flavoured cream. She flicked her wand to light them and wiped the tears from his eyes with her sleeve, placing her free hand on his knee.

"You should be spending your birthday with your family. Why come here?" he asked as she held him.

"Because I love you, Teddy Lupin, and when I'm with you, I am with family."

That was how her parents found them, when night had begun to thread itself across the sky, with his tear-stained eyes pressed into her shoulder and an empty cake box between them.

(*)(*)(*)

_**Prompt: Afterlife**_

_**-Also Written for the Fifty Characters, Fifty Prompts Competition: Victoire, Saint-**_

_**Saint has been used as a Theme Prompt for Victoire's personality.**_

_**I dedicate this one-shot to NymphxDora, who loves Teddy/Victoire as much, if not more, than I do.**_

_**Review, please**_


	13. Making Dreams: Feb 2022

**We are Family**

_**-Hugo and Rose-**_

**Sweet Dreams**

(*)(*)(*)

_**- February 2022**_

The delicious scents of sausages, eggs and bacon wafted through the Great Hall, invading his nostrils with their tantalising aroma and causing his mouth to water. Despite this, his stomach heaved as he settled down onto the bench, begging him not to ingest anything that may later find itself expelled in a rather ungrateful manner – knowing his luck, he'd end up vomiting whilst in the air and lose them the match.

This was his first match as a keeper for the Gryffindor team, and his nerves were shot to hell. For the entirety of his life he had been made to listen to tales of his father's skills upon the Quidditch Pitch. _The King_, they called him – one of the best Keeper's Gryffindor had ever had, outclassed only by Oliver Wood himself.

It made him wonder as to whether he had been gotten his place on the team out of pure talent or if he had merely been accepted because of his lineage. He did come from a family that was known for producing skilled Quidditch players.

Hugo shivered, even though the morning was warm, and his arms trembled as he lifted a goblet of iced pumpkin-juice to his lips, sipping at the cool liquid and hoping it would be enough to tide him until after the match. Suddenly, he felt a hand upon his shoulder and he turned, a slight smile crossing his face as he recognised his older sister standing behind him.

"You should eat something," she said softly, plopping down beside him at the Gryffindor table, her blue and bronze striped tie in stark comparison to the crimson and gold of his own house.

"I'm not hungry," Hugo whimpered, his stomach betraying him by giving off a loud rumble. She quirked an eyebrow at him, rolling her eyes as he mumbled something indiscernible to even his ears.

"Mum likes to say that dad was exactly the same on the morning of his first match," she replied, reaching across the table to spoon a small pile of scrambled eggs into his plate. Frowning, she then served him two sausages and some mushrooms, topping the hearty helping with a trio of roast tomatoes.

"Eat," she insisted as he stared at her in bemusement – fair enough, he had a Weasley appetite, but she was taking things a bit far this morning . . .

"Rosie," he groaned, "I'm fourteen, I don't need you to dish out my food for me."

"Eat," she repeated in a much sterner tone, her expression looking oddly reminiscent of that of their mother, "Or I will owl mum right now and tell her you haven't been eating again."

"You wouldn't," he gasped, hands shaking all the harder at the very thought of his mother receiving word of him skipping breakfast, especially considering the events of the previous year. It had taken months of weight-gain potions for him to regain a healthy body-mass, and he remembered the look of terror on Rose's face all too well from the morning when she had walked in on him bare-chested with ribs sticking out against his skin like the ridges of a dragon.

His mother would probably overcome her aversion to flying in seconds before arriving at Hogwarts to scream at him in person.

"I would," she smirked as he quickly brought a sausage to his lips and bit into it, almost crying as the flavours exploded across his tongue, "I'll tell her right now."

He mumbled something to the effect of _nosy, interfering sister_ before sighing and tucking into his breakfast, hoping that it wouldn't unsettle his stomach too badly. It was troubling him to be honest – what if he was to fail – the world seemed to want him to be the best at everything and it just wasn't possible. He wasn't a brilliant academic like his mother, nor was he a skilled quidditch player like his father – in fact, he was quite average in all he attempted.

Not that he minded, it was perfectly acceptable to be average, thank you very much. Hugo knew that he wouldn't be able to do half of what his parents had done when they were his age and this didn't really bother him. What bothered him was the world expecting him to do so.

He was so lost in his musings, he almost missed the sight of his sister glibly move her hand over his goblet, dripping in a few drops of liquid gold, all the while maintaining an expression of utmost innocence. He frowned, heart hammering in his chest as he glanced this way and that in the hopes that nobody had seen – they wouldn't listen to him if someone realised his drink had been spiked with lucky potion.

Thankfully, the table seemed blissfully unaware of his sister's actions.

"What are you playing at?" he hissed, leaning in close so that only she could hear him.

Rose grinned at him, rolling her eyes as she whispered in an equally low voice, hers coloured with mirth, a stark contrast to the fear and anxiety in his own.

"We're the children of war heroes, Hugo," she whispered, "They all want to use us, to try and grab some foothold of fame by being seen with us. It doesn't matter if we're talented or useless – we'll always be compared to those who came before, we'll always be chosen over others."

"So?"

"So, if they want to use us, I'd say there's no harm in holding your head up high and using them right back. They want a champion in you, Hugo – give them one."

"It's illegal, Rose," he whimpered, already caving under her words which rang so painfully true to his tired ears. He was tired of being used . . . used to the point where he often felt abused by society.

"They're instruments and we're musicians, baby brother," she smirked, and Hugo shuddered, suddenly realising the truth in the myth that his sister had very nearly made Slytherin, "Play them like strings."

Nodding, he swallowed his nervousness and accepted the goblet, drinking the contents in a single gulp.

(*)(*)(*)

_**Prompt: Strings**_

_**-Also Written for the 50 Characters, 50 Prompts Challenge: Hugo Weasley, 'Sweet Dreams' by Eurythmics'-**_

_**-Also Written for the Greek Mythology Mega-Prompt Challenge: Apate (Write About Deceit)**_


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